


3 Truths about Nick Wilde and 1 Lie by Judy Hopps

by strangetydes



Series: Zootopia City Gossip [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Gen, One Shot Collection, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-29 19:58:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10861017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangetydes/pseuds/strangetydes
Summary: A collection of one shots expanding on Nick's character and exploring Nick and Judy's relationship as it transitions from friendship to romance. Also: Judy is a horrible liar, especially when it comes to lying to Chief Bogo's face.





	1. Truth #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one shot takes place before the beginning of the movie.

**Truth #1: Nick Wilde can't drive a car.**

The Moss Boss was a dive located in the Rainforest District’s lowest pit. If built any closer to the river’s edge, it would’ve been submerged underwater. Nonetheless, a good 3 inches of water covered the bar floor and more dripped from every crack in the ceiling. Finnick grimaced as more water hit his already soaked footpads and fur.

An unbearable, thick blanket of heat hung in the air. Finnick was from Sahara Square. He was no stranger to heat, but the bar’s heated air combined with the rainforest’s humidity was suffocating. Even the Meadowlands had nicer dives than this, and those were run by _sheep_. If this con went well, he’d donate half his share for Nick to move to a new apartment. Anywhere was better than Nick’s current place, situated on the same tree trunk as The Moss Boss, only one level above the waterlogged mess.

He spotted Nick’s red fur peeking out from underneath a large umbrella, which also sheltered an entire round table from the drizzle of leaks. Water splashed with each step further into the bar. Of course, Nick had to choose a table along the back wall. If Finnick was a bigger pred like Nick, the splashing would only drench his pant legs, but he wasn’t, and that thought just deepened his scowl. By now, the water had drenched his pants, shirts, and everything underneath.

He rapped twice on the umbrella’s green canopy. It lifted, revealing Nick’s sly smile and, more importantly, food and alcohol.

“Ha! Finnick, you should’ve know better than to travel the Rainforest District without an umbrella. For what it’s worth, I’ve kept your seat and food dry. Although with the pound of water on you, I doubt it’ll stay that way,” Nick said, his smile stretched wide.

Finnick growled.

Without missing a beat, Nick added, “But forget all that. Look here, I got you a towel.”

The small fox snatched the towel from him and sat, water squishing out of his pants and tail. “I do know better. I go to better bars, _drier_ bars, not ones about to collapse on themselves. Nick, why couldn’t we have met in Sahara Square?”

“Because for business to boom for our soon-to-be popsicle stand, we should avoid being seen together in Sahara Square. Along with Tundratown, Downtown, and Little Rodentia.” Nick tapped a pile of handwritten notes that had a torn map peeking out from underneath. “Anywhere along the supply and delivery chain. Either we be seen as father-and-son duo or not at all. This entire plan hinges on folks not realizing that, number one, we are not the same species of fox, and number two, you are an adult.”

Finnick laughed. “Lousy chance at that happening, or I wouldn’t be carded at every damn bar. Speaking of which,” he tapped the side of his drink, “this had better be mead.”

“It is,” Nick assured him.

Finnick then tapped the table. “Alright, lemme see those plans.” The red fox slid the tattered paper stack across to him.

The notes detailed every possible place in Zootopia that sold sugary drinks or frozen desserts to large animals. Their con was simple: First, pretend to be father and son. Second, target some juice bar, a convenience store, or an ice cream shop, and talk their way into a freebie. A soda, ice cream cone, or smoothie, they didn’t care. It didn’t matter what the freebie was as long as it could be divided and sold as smaller popsicles to the rich rodents at the Lemming Brothers Bank. The idea was a sweet con and ripping off a gerbil, a sweeter bonus. Flipping through the stack, Finnick paused at one page and looked up in surprise.

“This what I think it is?” he asked.

Nick grabbed a handful of blueberries and nuts from a bowl. “Yup,” he said in between crunches. “That’s the acceptance letter from Ray’s Lumber Works, accepting our delivery proposal to transport lumber packs to multiple construction sites in Little Rodentia. This means we pick up the mouse lumber, use them as popsicle sticks, re-collect all the trashed sticks, re-bundle them, and deliver them to whatever construction company. As long as we make the evening delivery time, they won’t care what happens during the day. Only drawback is that we can only sell popsicles on lumber delivery days.”

“That’s…actually not bad. It’ll spread out the times we pull the trick, meaning less mammals will notice. And we’re not on the hook for any expense in the production line,” Finnick said.

Nick leaned forward. “I’m thinking the same thing. Plus there are enough shops that we can rotate through them all summer and never be seen by the same employee twice.”

Finnick frowned. “This says that we’ll provide our own delivery van for hauling lumber. Where we gonna get a delivery van?”

“I figured we’d use yours.”

“Are you outta your mind? NO!”

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Nick said, glancing out from underneath the umbrella and checking if Finnick’s shout drew any attention. Luckily, the drips and drops crashing from leaky ceiling to waterlogged floor muffled their voices. Finnick hated it, but Nick loved this bar for the constant background noise. Nobody could eavesdrop and he could still enjoy a bottle of mead. “What’s the big deal? I don’t own a car and you do. It’s the obvious solution.”

If Finnick could rip Nick’s tail off and shove it down his throat, he would. But then, he’d be out of a best friend. Instead he said, “Number one, it’s not just a van, it’s my home. I live there. Number two, its paint job—while killer—also makes it easy to spot. Cops could easily track us if they catch wind of this. Number three, you don’t own a car because you can’t drive. Not that you won’t drive, but that you can’t drive, Nick. You don’t know how to work a car, let alone a van, which brings us to point number four: If I’m pretending to be a toddler, who’s gonna drive the van, Nick? Who?”

“Well, Finnick, in answer to number three: I live in Zootopia. Over half the population can’t drive and I have some choice critiques for the ones who do. As for number four, I figured you’d teach me. It can’t be that hard.”

“I ain’t letting you wreck my ride, Nick.”

“I’m not gonna wreck it.”

“I’m not gonna take that chance.” Finnick glared. “That van is my pride and joy. Pride. And. Joy.”

“You said it yourself, it would look odd if I”—he held a paw to his chest—“your father were not driving.”

“It’s a distinctive van, Nick. It’s going to stick out even if you drive it. Cops only need to run the plates to figure out who owns it and my legal age. In that case, I might as well be the one who drives.”

“Fine. Unless you can get access to another car, then that’s way it’s gonna be. We have nothing else available to transport goods.”

“Fine by me.”

“Okay then.”

“If anyone stops and asks why I’m driving, I’m going to tell them you’re recklessly endangering your only son.”

“If anyone hears you talk, they’ll keel over in shock. Your voice is deeper than mine.”

“Ha, don’t worry, Nicky. Puberty’s gonna come for you someday.”

It was Nick’s turn to glare. “Finnick, I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

Finnick smirked and drank a mouthful of mead. “Let’s move on. Any idea about what joint you wanna hit first?”

“Jumbeaux's Café. Those elephants may be equivalent to a donkey’s butt, but I got you the perfect outfit needed to pull this off.” The sly smile was back on Nick’s face.

Finnick did not like that smile. Dread settled into his stomach and the smirk dropped off his face. That smile meant his dignity was gonna take a hit for this con. Shit, screw Nick. Finnick had a feeling he’d deserve half of Nick’s share once this all played out.


	2. Truth #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some pre-relationship fluff with Judy and Nick, and also for an exposition monologue on Nick's backstory. In case any reader is wondering, Nick is 32 years old based on the calculation Judy does when arresting him for tax evasion in the movie. (He was working since he was 12, and Judy states that he hasn't paid taxes for the 2 decades since he started working.)

**Truth #2: He does not talk to his mother.**

Judy was beaming at him over her cup of Snarlbucks coffee. Nick couldn’t help but beam a smile back at her. He’d just informed her that he was on schedule to pass his last classes and graduate from Zootopia’s police academy next month. He had every reason in the world to be smiling, not just because of the bunny across the coffee shop table from him.

Some days, Nick thinks he might have done better, been a better fox, if he had someone like Judy in his past. On the other days, a guilty voice in his subconscious reminds him that he did once have someone like Judy in his childhood. Someone—smart and honest—who believed in the best of him and wanted better for him. Someone who tried so hard to set him on the right path and failed.

“Nick, I already knew you’d be graduating on time.” Her comment snapped him back to the present.

“Oh? You have that much confidence in me?”

Her reply back was instant. “Ha, no!”

Nick’s eyebrows shot up.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Judy stammered. “No. Of course, I have every confidence in you, Nick. That’s why I wanted us to be partners. What I meant is that I’ve been asked to be the keynote speaker at your graduation ceremony. That’s why I know you’re set to graduate on time.”

“Really?”

“You know Major Friedkin? She’s the instructor for almost all the physical training courses.”

He grimaced. “Carrots, I have nightmares of a never-ending obstacle course with her voice shouting in my ear. There’s no way I’ll ever forget our dear sadistic major. What about her?”

Judy laughed. “Bertha’s the one that nominated me as the keynote speaker. I guess, since you’re the first fox officer, they thought it’d be appropriate for the commencement speech to be given by the first rabbit officer, especially considering we’re going to be partners after you graduate.”

“Wait, let’s go back to the beginning of that sentence. Bertha? Are you on a first name basis with all my instructors?”

“Not all of them.”

“Isn’t that reassuring? Care to share the names of the others you talk to?”

“No, not really. I prefer to keep you on your toes.”

He smiled again and let the matter go. For today. “So, this commencement speech? Have you written anything for it yet?” he asked, taking a sip of coffee.

Judy hugged her own coffee cup closer to her chest and sighed. “No, and I’m especially nervous considering...my last attempt at public speaking didn’t go so well.” Then she quickly added, “Also, my parents are going to be there.”

“Last time, reporters wer—”

“And they want to meet you,” she interrupted.

“Ah. Are you more nervous about giving a speech or them meeting your future fox partner?”

“Don’t be silly. One of their best business partners is a fox. Gideon Grey, he makes the best pies in all of Bunnyburrow. My family sells them at all our farm stands. They’ll have no problem with you, Nick.” She began fidgeting with the cardboard sleeve on her cup. “It’s just that my father was insisting he take us all out to dinner after the ceremony and invited you, and when I said that you may be doing something with your parents afterwards, he invited them too. So...would you, your parents, or any other mammal you invited like to go out to dinner with my family?”

Nick hesitated.

The pause was long enough to make Judy hold out her paw and say: “You and none of your family are obligated to go with us. Just meeting my parents after the ceremony will be fine.”

“No, that’s not it,” he said, reaching out to grab Judy’s paw. Realizing what he did, Nick snatched his paw away a second later. He  sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “None of my family will be attending. It’ll just be me, so I’d be happy to meet your family and have dinner with them afterwards.”

“No one will be there for you?”

Nick didn’t appreciate the pity he saw in her eyes. “Don’t make it sound so pathetic.”

Those eyes then narrowed. “Did you even invite anyone to the ceremony?”

“There’s no one to invite.”

“Nick…”

He clutched his empty coffee cup tight, crushing the paper shell. “My dad died when I was a pup, and I haven’t talked to my mom in years. I don’t have any siblings, aunts, or uncles. Judy, I really have no one to invite. Unless you count Finnick, but his eye still twitches when I mention the academy, so I doubt he’ll say ‘yes’ to an invite there.” Nick forced a laugh that became a frown after looking at Judy’s face. The pity was back in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea about your parents.”

“Well, I don’t like talking about it.”

She, however, kept talking. “Actually, I did kinda guess about your dad. You never mention him, so I thought he maybe died or left you and your mom, but your mom—you always talk so fondly about her. And in the present tense. I’d never guess you two were estranged.”

He sighed. “Wishful thinking on my part, I suppose. She left Zootopia when I was 19 and returned to her hometown, some small forest town in the middle of nowhere. I haven’t seen her since then.”

“She just left without saying anything?

This time, the laugh bubbled past his snout before he could stop it. “Oh, my mom said more than a few words before she left. She wanted me to come with her. We had argument after argument, screaming so loud that the neighbors heard us through the walls.” He shrugged at her questioning look. “I’m a city fox, through and through, like my dad. I couldn’t even imagine leaving Zootopia. It’s my home.”

“Then why’d she want to leave?” Judy asked.

“Me. Mom hoped that I’d straighten out and get an honest job if I left Zootopia. I said that I was like my dad, but truth is, I’m nothing like him or my mom. They never cheated or conned anyone in their lives. Dad actually inherited his father’s tuxedo store, John Wilde: Formal Wear & Formal Hire.” Nick framed the imaginary store title in the air with his fingers.

He continued, “That’s where my parents met. Mom was a country bumpkin like you, Judy, naive with big city dreams, but she had a hard time finding a job. No one wanted to hire a fox. Luckily for her, Dad was looking for a new cashier. She applied and the cheesy love story wrote itself. They were married within half a year. They worked together in that store until I was born, and then Mom stayed home to raise me.

Everything went downhill when Dad died in a traffic accident. I was only 3 at the time. He didn’t have any life insurance, and Mom was forced to sell the store to keep us afloat until she could send me to school and head back to work. Similar to when she arrived in Zootopia, she couldn’t find a stable job, one that could support us both. Seeing her struggle, and the whole incident with the Junior Ranger Scouts, I figured honest work was worthless. I might as well be the shifty fox the world expected and make some money.

I began to flex my business muscles—let’s call ‘em that—as a teenager.  Sold old high school essays across district lines between different schools, and you wouldn’t believe the profit I made. Soon, I was putting more food on the table than Mom. She didn’t figure out what I was doing until after I graduated from high school. Some kids from the lower grades had called my house to see if I was still in business, and she answered the phone. But by then, I had already moved on to my first real con: Collecting street-side donations for a fake blind organization with three mice who were pretending to be blind.

Mom was livid. She told me to quit. I told her ‘no’ and then we both yelled some comments I rather not repeat. Next thing I knew, she was giving me an ultimatum. She’d called some old family friends from her hometown and got jobs lined up for us both. Either I went with her or she’d leave me behind. I tried calling her bluff, but she wasn’t bluffing. She really left. I think she thought I’d follow her once I realized she wasn’t coming back. However, I thought she’d come back once she realized I’d never follow her. And that’s it. We both played chicken and neither of us blinked.”

“Nick, that’s awful.” Judy said, wide-eyed, looking like she wanted to cry for him. “I can’t imagine never speaking to either of my parents again. You’ve never thought of contacting her, even now, to tell her you’ve turned your life around? I’m sure she would be proud of you. You could use the graduation ceremony as an excuse to see her again!”

Quietly, Nick said, “It’s been over a decade, Judy. I don’t know where she is, or if she stayed in the countryside. I doubt I could find her in time to invite her.” He paused. “...And I know it’s my fault. To be honest, I don’t know how to face her and where to even begin apologizing. I’m not going to reopen old wounds.”

They sat in awkward silence for a while, staring into their empty cups, each unsure on how to propel the conversation forward again. After a moment’s hesitation, Nick reached across the table for Judy’s paws. He said, “For graduation, I only care about the attendance of one mammal. You. You being there is the only thing that matters to me.”

Judy blushed a deep red, one visible through her grey fur. She gripped his paws tighter and said, “I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished in the past six months, Nick. Speech or no speech, I wouldn’t miss your graduation for anything in the world.”

And that brought another beaming smile to his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommend checking out 'The Art of Zootopia'. The book contains a lot of concept art and behind-the-scenes details on Zootopia's story development and production. I've woven a couple of tidbits from that book into these one shots. The tux store, 'John Wilde: Formal Wear & Formal Hire', was a real idea that the Zootopia creators thought up and didn't use.


	3. Truth #3

**Truth #3:** **He moved into a bunny’s apartment. Without her permission.**

“But Nick doesn’t live here. He has an apartment in the Rainforest District,” Judy insisted, giving her landlady a helpless look.

Not only did Ms. Dharma look unconvinced, but the armadillo raised an eyebrow in disbelief. They were currently in the leasing office of the Grand Pangolin Arms. She was in a cushioned chair while Judy was seated in the hard visitor's chair across from her desk. Ms. Dharma pushed the lease agreement form closer to the bunny. Judy looked at it as if just confronted by a repulsively deformed spider. She nudged the form back towards the older mammal.

“This isn’t necessary,” Judy said.

“I have documentation of your...friend...spending at least five nights a week in your apartment for the past two months. I don’t care if he’s renting an apartment in the Rainforest District. He’s spending the majority of time here. Which makes him a liability for me, unless he signs a lease agreement,” Ms. Dharma replied.

“But—”

“I could evict you for this, Judy. Instead I’m asking for Mr. Wilde to agree to the same terms and conditions as all the other tenants in the Grand Pangolin Arms. That’s very reasonable, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Judy sighed. She picked up the lease agreement form and exited the office. A choice now faced her: Either she admitted Nick was living with her and have him sign it, or she could kick him out.

She was reluctant to choose the latter. She sighed again.

The most aggravating aspect was that Nick never asked to move in with her. He slowly sneaked himself into the apartment like….like some stereotypical fox!

It all started with Nick’s spare uniform hanging in her closet. That one was on her. She had offered him the space. Nick was so uneasy about storing his spare uniform in his locker at the police station. He avoided the male locker rooms entirely if he could, and Judy couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t all that fond of the station’s female locker rooms either. Cheese and crackers, none of those areas were designed with small mammals in mind. And if they were working an active case, Nick couldn’t afford to waste time running all the way home to the Rainforest District for a change of clothes. It made sense to offer him space in her closet. (Truth be told, the closet was just a rail nailed to the wall.) After all, she lived so close to the station.

She didn’t comment when a pair of his street clothes joined the spare uniform a week later. He didn’t ask for more space, but Judy let it slide. Some cases, especially some mammals, were easier to approach without the uniform on.

Then a toothbrush and dental bone took up space in her nightstand’s bottom drawer. That’s where she should’ve drawn the line. Buuuut—there was always a ‘but’ when it came to Nicholas Wilde—they had spent five straight nights on stakeout. Again, it just made sense for Nick to crash on her apartment floor during that case. They’d sleep at her place during the day, and be up and ready for the night shift. Her place was just _so close_!

A hairbrush and sunglasses soon joined the toothbrush and dental bone. Since they’d probably have more night shifts in the future, Judy even bought an extra pillow for him. This was all well and good, but what that fox did to her mini-fridge was unforgivable! Her little fridge, too tiny to hold the frozen fruit and vegetables she bought for herself, could barely hold the pack of frozen fish sticks that Nick shoved in there. She swore a fishy odor was clinging to its walls.

The fish sticks should’ve been the last straw. She should have told him ‘no’. This was her apartment, her fridge, her drawers, and her closet. Not his. Either he store the fish sticks in his own refrigerator in the Rainforest District, or rent out his own place closer to Savanna Central.

Except...who would Judy eat dinner with? She was so used to grabbing a bite with Nick after work. If they were too cheap to eat out, they’d end up eating at her place; each of them microwaving their separate frozen dinners and talking while sitting at her desk-turned-dining-room-table. Growing up in a large noisy family, Judy loved the solitude of her own place. Yet she missed sharing meals with her siblings and parents, and talking with someone over dinner. And...and she especially loved talking with Nick.

So Judy tolerated the fish sticks.

She didn’t tolerate him leaving his laptop and phone charger cord on the floor. Or the ever-growing pile of his clothes next to the apartment door. In fact, the number of Nick’s belongings in her apartment kept growing. There were at least six boxes scattered around the place: three under the bed, two stacked by her desk, and the last shoved behind the microwave. Judy lost count of how many times she tripped or stubbed a toe.

She also lost track of the last time Nick actually went home to the Rainforest district. He was still renting his own apartment, right?

Her gut, deep down, said no. Judy could justify her lenient attitude towards everything, except for the old lawn chair folded at the foot of her bed. It wasn’t always folded against the bed. After his first week on the hard floor, Nick brought the chair in as a more comfortable sleeping option. Well, the more comfortable option until Judy suggested they share the bed. Not that they’ve done anything besides sleeping together! Not _sleeping_ , sleeping together. She meant that they were always fully clothed and their bodies physically sleeping! Everything shut down with no further activities occurring!

Okay, sometimes Nick slept without a shirt. They’ve also cuddled once or twice. It was all very murky territory, and Nick didn’t seem likely to announce any of his motives any time soon. And damn it, if Judy wasn’t getting tired of all the subterfuge.

Her train of thought grinded to a halt as her feet stopped in front of her apartment door. Another thing that irked her was that Nick was living at her place for free. Without rent. Ms. Dharma was wrong about him only spending five nights a week; he was there for all seven nights. That freeloading would end the moment Nick signed the lease.

“I was wondering where you hopped off to,” Nick said when she walked through the door and then kicked it shut. He was stretched out on the bed, phone in his paw, browsing Preddit threads on an app. “I ordered a vegetable pizza from PawPaw Don’s for dinner. It should be here in about 15 minutes. That sound good?”

“I thought you wanted to try the barbeque cricket pizza the next time we ordered.”

“Eh, I rather share one with you. So where were you?”

Judy marched over and held the lease agreement between the fox and his phone. “Talking to the building’s landlady. About you.”

“What’s this?” Surprised, Nick sat up and grabbed the papers, his eyes quickly scanning them.

“A lease agreement. Apparently, every adult living at the Grand Pangolin Arms has to sign one whether they’re paying rent or not. Ms. Dharma seems to be under the impression that you, Nick Wilde, are living in my apartment.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t think she’s wrong. I haven’t seen you go home in over two months. You’ve spent every night here.”

He sprouted a sly grin. “You’ve seemed rather comfortable with where I’ve been spending my nights for the past two months.” He purposely plopped back down on the bed.

“I’m less comfortable with the fact my landlandy has to update me on my own relationship status,” Judy deadpanned.

“Has your relationship status changed?”

She ignored the question. “I could kick you out.”

“That’d be a shame. Then I’d be homeless.”

“So you really gave up the Rainforest apartment?”

He sat back up, leaning a forearm on his right knee. “I cut my old lease, rented out a storage space for what couldn’t fit here, and got a P.O. box, so I’d have my own mailing address.”

“You do know that romantic fraternization between field partners is against ZPD’s internal policies?”

“Yes. But it doesn’t say a thing against partners being roommates.” He sounded smug like he found a loophole that no one else ever thought of.

Judy frowned. “So that’s all we are, Nick? Roommates?” Her tone was tense.

Nick frowned at that tone in her voice. “...Ah…well, that’s not…” he said at a loss for words, a rarity for the smooth-talking fox. He licked his lips nervously.

Slowly he got off the bed and walked over, standing directly in front of her. He was close, really close. She could hear the rapid thump of his heart beat, beating at the same speed as hers. Nick placed his paws on Judy’s shoulders and leaned his face in even closer.

A loud knock made them flinch. Instinctively they stepped apart. “PawPaw Don’s pizza delivery,” shouted a voice from the other side of the apartment door.

Nick yanked opened the door, tore the pizza from the delivery driver’s hooves, and tossed the startled sheep an uncounted wad of bills from his back pocket. He barely uttered “Keep all the change” before slamming the door in the other’s face. Then he plopped the pizza on the desk and returned to Judy, pulling her close and going again for the kiss, as if the disruption never happened.

She blocked his snout with her paw, pushing his face back. “Isn’t there something you want to say first?” she asked quietly.

“I love you, Judy Hopps. And I will use every dirty trick I know to make sure I spend the rest of my life with you, including something as crazy as joining the police, or being an absolute ass and move in without asking. Now, will you let me kiss you?”

She nodded, a blush visible through her fur. He brushed her paw away, swooping in close once more.

A burst of yelling from their neighbors’ apartment interrupted them. Nick pulled away and glared at the air that was filling with the disembodied voices of the kudu and gemsbok next door.

“FINALLY!”

“I KNOW, RIGHT? I THOUGHT THEY WOULD NEVER GET TOGETHER.”

“SHUT UP. YOU’RE RUINING THE MOMENT.”

“YOU RUINED IT FIRST. YOU SHUT UP!”

“NO, YOU SHUT UP!”

“NO. _YOU_ SHUT UP!”

Picture frames rattled on the shared apartment wall with each shout. Nick emitted a frustrated groan and said, “I promise to pay my share of the rent, if you promised we can move somewhere bigger with thicker walls.”

“Deal,” Judy replied. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a proper kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go! If you've liked the one shots so far, spare a second and click the 'kudos' button.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. The Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter piggybacks directly off of the events in the previous chapter. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for the wonderful comments and all the kudos! Loved them. I'm glad Truth #3 was such a hit. Hopefully, the last chapter will be just as strong (even though it lacks Nick). I sure had a fun time writing it while imagining Idris Elba saying all of Bogo's lines. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

**The Lie: He's gay.**

Chief Bogo was calm as he dialed the extension number for Officer Hopps’s office phone. He was calm when she answered, and he very calmly, _very patiently_ , ordered her to his office. Immediately. Without Officer Wilde. NOW.

Minutes later, Hopps rushed into his office, her nose twitching nervously. Behind his glasses, Bogo narrowed his eyes. He leaned back in his chair. “Officer Hopps. Sit down,” he growled, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. The moment she climbed into the chair, Bogo slammed a piece of paper down in front of her. Judy flinched. His hoof collided with the wood underneath, creating an audible _thunk_. 

Bogo snapped, “Are you aware that Officer Wilde has filed a change of address form?”

She hesitated and tentatively answered, “Yes?”

Bogo bit back another growl. He may not have wanted Judy Hopps in his precinct in the beginning, but she had proven to be an invaluable officer, despite her youth and inexperience. Ever since the Bellweather incident, he’d tried to mentor her and have her back. He’d even supported Wilde’s admission to the academy and assignment to Precinct 1 as Hopps’s partner. A decision he sometimes regretted, usually when Wilde was back talking him. However, if he thought Hopps was invaluable on her own, Bogo couldn’t deny the effectiveness of those two as partners. The amount of cases they’ve closed attested to that, not to mention no one else in the ZPD could ever establish the same rapport with the Tundratown voles as they have. 

But _this_ , this stunt they were trying to pull tested his patience. Bogo was going to protect his officers, even if it was from their own emotional stupidity. He continued, “And are you aware, Hopps, of the address Wilde reportedly now lives at?”

“Uh, well, it’s the same address as m—”

“Exactly,” Bogo interrupted. “So my question is this: What reason could Wilde possibly have to move in with you?”

“...Chief, wouldn’t that question be bettered answered by Nick?”

Bogo paused, long enough that she struggled not to fidget. Then he quietly said, “I think we both know why I elected to talk to you instead of Wilde. I want a straight answer, Hopps. And I find it hard to believe you forgot ZPD policy regarding fraternization between field partners.”

Hopps stared at the front of Bogo’s desk for a long minute, her paws braced on her thighs. The buffalo could almost envisioned the frantic thoughts whirling between the bunny’s ears. She took a deep breath, straighten her shoulders, and said, “If I may point out, sir, the ZPD policy refers to romantic fraternization. There are no rules stating that partners cannot live at the same address as roommates.”

Bogo raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Roommates?”

“Yes, sir,” Hopps affirmed. “Roommates.”

“That’s your excuse. You expect me to swallow that you and Wilde are only roommates?” he asked incredulously. 

“Chief, you’re making an assumption about our relationship that isn’t true.”

“I’m making an assumption because I don’t want to split up two of my best officers if they can’t keep their emotions out of their work. The rules are there for a reason, Hopps.”

“We aren’t breaking any rules,” she insisted, raising her voice.

“Then why’d Wilde move in with you?”

“To be closer to work.” Her voice rose in pitch again.

Bogo slowly stood up, his large frame looming over the desk. “I wasn’t aware we paid Wilde so little that he needed to move in with a fellow officer.”

“It had to be quick.” 

“Not a real answer. Why, Hopps?” his voice boomed. 

She looked panicked, her eyes darting about the room. Then Hopps blurted out, “Because he was having boyfriend troubles!”

Surprised, Bogo fell back into his seat. He never anticipated _that_ answer. Wordlessly, he opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “I...see. Could you elaborate on that for me?”

She was refusing to meet his eyes. “Nick...is...gay. He and I will never be in a romantic relationship, so there’s no need to separate us as partners. He’d never be interested in some girl bunny.” She laughed shakily and looked up, holding a paw to her chest. “As for me, I see Nick more like a big brother.”

“I mea—”

“We’re just friends,” Hopps added, interrupting him.

“Right,” Bogo said, drawing out the word. He leaned back in his chair.  “As I was saying, I meant I wanted you to elaborate on Wilde’s ‘boyfriend troubles’.” 

“Okay.” She paused, thinking. “Not to be rude, sir, but Nick’s...relationship troubles should hardly concern you or the ZPD.”

“The wellbeing of all my officers concerns me, Hopps. If Wilde’s home life is impacting his performance as a police officer, not only should I be aware of his situation, but it is my duty as his superior officer to inform him of ZPD resources to aide him. Such as referring him to the counseling center or a department psychologist. Your employee health insurance covers many types of appointments. Or perhaps Wilde is needs a different kind of assistance?” He shifted forward, elbows on his desk, casually resting his chin on a hoof. “If either you or Wilde were to arrest this boyfriend, it could be seen as a conflict of interest. I’m sure we could find another willing ZPD officer for the task.”

“NO!” Hopps shouted. She cleared her throat and spoke in a quieter but rushed tone. “I mean, no, that’s not necessary. Uh...Nick and his boyfriend, who is a fox, did I mention that? He’s only interested in other male foxes. He’d never date outside his own species, you see?”

“How narcissistic. Make your point already, Hopps.”

She grimaced and continued, “It’s a boring story, really. His boyfriend is someone from his previous job. Nick became a cop, they broke up, and he moved out of his old place and in with me. That’s all there is to it. Nick couldn’t stand to stay in the apartment as his ex, and that’s why he moved in with me. To get out of there quicker.”

Bogo opened his mouth to comment, but Hopps interrupted before he could speak. “In fact,” she said, “we’ve worked better and closed more cases since we started rooming together. Us being roommates makes us better, more dedicated cops.” She forced a wide smile. 

In response, Bogo’s face was expressionless. He let silence hang over them, a thick suffocating pause. “Well, if that’s the situation, then you and Wilde are indeed not breaking any internal ZPD policies,” he finally said.

“No, sir, we are not.” 

“Since you’re only roommates,” he continued. 

“Yes.”

“Then this conversation is over. You’re dismissed, Officer Hopps.”

“Yes, Chief Bogo.” Hopps shot out of her chair and ran from his office before he could blink. 

After the door slammed shut, Bogo groaned and rubbed his eyes. Parts of the conversation kept playing in his head; his mind still unable to process the absolute bull he just heard. However, he was certain about one thing. This was. All. Wilde’s. Fault. He knew it in his gut.

A knock sounded from the other side of his office door. Bogo sighed. “Come in,” he answered.

“Chief!” Clawhauser responded in greeting. He shuffled in, carrying a thin folder under a thick arm. The cheetah handed it to Bogo, who opened the folder only to find blank pages. 

“Clawhauser, what stunt are you trying to pull here?” he growled. A high-pitched squeal erupted from the other’s throat. It was Bogo’s only warning before being bombarded with a verbal assault. 

“Is it true, Chief? I heard from Janice in HR that Nick moved in with Judy. Are they really dating? Oh-em-goodness, that’s a sure violation of station policy!” Clawhauser gasped at this point. “Will you split them up? You can’t! Mammals are going to nooo--tice. Did you know that there’s an office pool bet—”

Bogo slammed the useless folder on his desk with a _thwack_. “The ZPD doesn’t pay you to gossip. Get back to your post, Clawhauser!”

“But, Chieeeef…”

Bogo massaged his brow, trying to push back his frustration. 

The other continued to whine, “I promised I won’t tell another soul in the station.”

Bogo snorted. He highly doubted _that_. Then an idea struck him: an irresponsible, completely unprofessional idea. The chief hated when a subordinate wasn’t honest when directly questioned by a superior officer. That behavior was better stamped out early in an officer’s career, and most importantly, only a well-spread lie could bite the original liar in the butt. 

His grin was devilish. “Alright, Clawhauser, as long as you keep what I’m about to tell you quiet and confidential, then I’ll let you in on the loop.”

A giant smile broke out on the cheetah’s chubby face. “Absolutely!”

“Good. Hopps and Wilde will not be split up and will continue to work as partners. Apparently, they’re only roommates.”

“Wait, what?” asked Clawhauser. “Nobody buys that.”

“That’s what I thought too, but it seems that Wilde’s romantic inclinations lie elsewhere: Generally in other male foxes, and specifically in his boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend. I did lose track of Hopps’s story after a bit. The important part is that Hopps and Wilde are not engaged in fraternization of the romantic variety. Because they’re just friends...and roommates.”

“Oh.”

“I know.”

“No one in the station betted on that outcome.”

“Excuse me? Clawhauser, care to repeat that last statement?”

Clawhauser laughed nervously. “Just an expression, don’t you worry about it, Chief. Here, let me get out of your way and back to my desk.” He grabbed the folder of blank papers off the desk and practically jogged out of the room. It was the fastest Bogo had seen him move in months. 

The buffalo couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. He picked up his office phone and dialed the number for the ZPD Superintendent. The ZPD fraternization policies hadn’t been changed in over 40 years. It was time for an update—something Bogo planned to fight for—on the off-chance that his best pair of officers were more than just “roommates”.


End file.
